Makings of a Hood
by Kimberley Jayne
Summary: A child isn't born to become a menace to society; a child is born with only one instinct - survival.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns the characters from The Outsiders, not I.

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**Saturday, 12th September, 1966.**

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He lay still and silent, biding his time until the nurse finished her check-up and left him the hell alone.

The sound of shuffling feet coming from the corridor outside his room told him it was time for the hospital rounds to change. He crept to the chair nearest the window and unfolded his clothes. He pulled them over his bruised and burnt body. The switch-blade Two-Bit had handed him sat comfortably in the back pocket of his jeans as he snuck out of his room and down the corridor to the staircase.

It was easy enough for him to slip by unnoticed in the bustle of nurses as they changed rounds; it was easy enough to pick out who was just starting and who was going home. Some walked briskly, eager for their shift to begin while others wiped the sweat from their brow, happy to be going home. He didn't give a crap about any of them. Tim had mentioned Johnny was on the floor below; now all he had to do was find the right room.

He took the stairs a floor down. He poked his head around the first few doors; he felt sick already. These people were covered in bandages, hooked up to machines and drips. The idea of Johnny being in one of those rooms made his stomach churn.

It wasn't until he made it to the sixth door that he saw a familiar face. "Johnny?" he asked, unsure.

Johnny looked over at the door, expecting to see another one of the doctors or nurses, ready to poke and prod at him some more. He looked relived to see Dally stood in the doorway. Two-Bit and Pony had dropped in earlier but no one had told him anything about Dally - if it wasn't for Dal he knew he'd of died in that church. Dallas was a hero, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Hey, Dally." His voice was hoarse and strained.

The door shut quietly behind Dally as he stepped into the room. Seeing him lying there, bandaged and bruised, made him see his friend in a new light. For once he didn't look down at the kid and see how tough he was, see the fighter he knew Johnny was. For the first time he looked at him and saw the one thing that made his teeth grit in anger; he saw him damaged.

They'd all seen Johnny roughed up from his old man before, even beat up by the Socs, but Dallas had never seen this look in the kid's eyes. The toughness had left his face and was replaced by defeat.

He sat in the chair next to Johnny's bed. "Jesus Christ, Johnny," he muttered.

"Shucks, Dal, I don't look that bad," Johnny joked.

His voice was raspy like he'd just smoked three packs of Kools all at once. His was bangered from head to toe apart from his hands and face. Dallas looked at the crisp skin, or at least what was left of it.

Dally shook his head, a tight grin on his face. "Nah man, you look worse.

Johnny didn't argue about the fact that he looked bad. He didn't even try to argue with Dally's unshaved face and wrinkled, blood-stained clothes. Dally was no model either.

"Doc's lettin' you go home?" he asked.

Dally's grin widened. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Johnny sighed. "You're gonna be in the rumble, ain't you?" It wasn't a question; it was a fact he already knew to be true.

"Don't look at me like that, Johnny," Dally warned. "You know what this rumble means."

"To who, Dally?" Johnny demanded. "To the guys? Or to you?"

Dally's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. "This is for you, man. We're doin' this for you."

He sat up and fished out his pack of smokes from the inside of his jacket. He didn't understand what Johnny was getting at; what did it matter what the rumble meant or who it was for? A fight was a fight and every person that showed up tonight had something to prove.

"It's all stupid," Johnny said tiredly. "It's a dumb fight and people are gonna get hurt."

Dallas took a long drag from his cigarette and leaned closer to the bed.

"Everyone gets roughed up in a fight, Johnny, you know that, man." Dally leaned back down in the chair, into a lounging position and watched the smoke leave his mouth and drift up to the hospital ceiling. "Besides, them bastards got it coming."

"And they're probably thinkin' the same about us," Johnny argued.

"Who cares what they're thinking?" Dally exclaimed. "It's their fault, big tough hot shots. Ain't so tough no more."

Johnny moved his head as much as he could to look at Dally. "And what makes you so tough, huh, Dal?"

Dallas sat, puffing smoke off his cancer stick, staring into the eyes of one of the few people that could get away with saying shit like that to him and not get a broken jaw in return. Johnny was still looking at him for an explanation.

"Cause I have to be," he answered forcefully.

"And bangin' a few heads together makes you real tough," Johnny said sarcastically.

Dal didn't understand what the kid was getting at, and right then all he really felt like doing was shaking him until he made some sort of sense.

"The hell you talkin' 'bout?"

Johnny closed his eyes. "You don't get it, do you?"

Dally looked at him like he was a complicated jigsaw puzzle he couldn't quite fit together. He couldn't make sense of the damn riddles the kid kept spouting.

"Get what?" he snapped, agitated.

"Fightin'," Johnny said. "It don't get you nowhere, Dal. It don't make you any better than the guy you're up against."

"Sure as hell worked for me all these years, buddy," Dallas remarked.

"What's it got you, Dal?" he questioned. "You ain't no better off than the rest of us, and you never will be 'cause you don't get it."

Dally didn't understand what the kid was getting at. When you fought, you got respect, and once you had enough respect from the people around you, then you were untouchable. That's what Dallas thought he was at least—untouchable—and those who didn't respect him at the very least were fearful of him.

"Maybe it's you that don't get it," he sneered. "How can you, when you've never been on your own?"

Johnny opened his eyes and stared into Dallas's hateful ones.

"Then tell me how it is Dal."

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**Kimberley Jayne**


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** S.E. Hinton owns the characters from The Outsiders, not I.

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**Friday, August 28th, 1962.**

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I'd end up here a few times a month on nights like this when Ma had grown a conscience and decided a twelve year old shouldn't be left home alone. She was good at putting on the caring, Motherly act when needed. The only problem was I'd of been better off at home with the place burning down than in a dump like this.

"Hey cutie," Poppy greets. "You wanna drink while you wait."

Her breath stinks of stale booze, I shake my head and she turns away. Her eye make-up was smudged and the red lipstick she always wore so perfectly was smeared they were all signs she'd just come back from a rough 'en. The thought bad your stomach churn. Most of the broads in this place had come back home with Ma once or twice so they all knew me as her kid. It was worse when they were working the streets and a couple wave to me that was real embarrassing.

Ma's across the room but she's not the one I've been keeping my eyes on it's the guy across from her that's been giving her the eye ever since she started her shift. That really bugs me. I wanna go over to him and punch his teeth in.

It's the guys that bother me more than anything the ones that come here 'cos there wives are too refined to do this shit at home for their husbands pleasure. The others that come in here the ones that can't get an unpaid woman to do the things they have in mind, they're all twisted fucks.

The real crime is that this is a whole lot safer than the shit she was doin' a couple of months ago. The first time I'd seen Ma getting bruised up in the streets was the first time I'd ever seen the inside of a cell. I were only ten when it'd happened but I don't regret doing it.

"Whatcha' doin' here kid?"

Vinnie's stood over me and it doesn't half make me feel uneasy.

Ma said Vinnie thought he was the big cheese and really suppose in some respects he was. He ran the bar, the women, and the stuff that went in and out of joints like this. He knew who'd done what, why and what for 'cos that who Vinnie was—a thug.

"Waitin' for my cousin," I reply, coolly.

He nods and moves on not bothering to give me a second glance. He heads over to Ma and pulls her up by her elbow, his teeth grit together as he hisses at her. She scans the bar looking for me. I can see the words coming out of her mouth in a rushed panic. He lets go of her but with the look on his face I know he isn't finished yet.

I suppose Vinnie's what you could call a classy guy, he wouldn't make a scene in front of his punters. The truth of the matter is sex sells but so do fights the only difference was punters came to this place for booze and hookers, not a boxing match.

Vinnie is one mean bastard and he had a habit on making a living offa fear there wasn't one chick in the joint that would step outta line, not one of 'em would say 'no'. Back in Texas Grandpa always told me it was easier to gain respect through the use of fear but that never made the respect anything real. You couldn't trust anyone while you used fear or manipulation to get what you wanted.

"Dally!" Pops calls. "Your cousin's out front."

I look over to Ma and offer her a smile; she mouths the words 'be good'. I can't help but grin a little, even she knows saying it would be a waste of oxygen.

Poppy winks at me as I make my way to the door and even though I know what she is I can't help the blush spreading across my cheeks.

The air is cool outside, it's coming up to the end of August and the thought of heading back to school bugs me something awful.

"Hey man," Raymond greets.

He hands me a smoke outta his pack and a light. If Ma ever caught me smokin' she'd sure as hell skin me alive. Her idea of life is 'do as I say, not what I do'.

"You ready to get outta here?"

"Am I ever," I reply. "Where're we headin'?"

It didn't really matter where we were going I were just glad to be out of that place. It was sorta funny how Ma figures it's too dangerous for me to be left on my own, but when I'm with Ray I'm never out of trouble. Maybe it's because she knows that at least when I'm with him he won't leave me out to dry . Can only trust family is what she says.

"There's a party down near Marks if you wanna come with," he suggests.

I frown a little, parties were cool and all but the other guys treat me like a real kid. Raymond's two years older than me and he's never treated me like a kid, probably because he's got a kid sister of his own.

"I dunno man, where's his brother?"

Ray flicks his smoke away. "Outta town," he answers. "Or we could check out what Mark and Will are doin'?"

I kick the glass bottle by my and watch it fly across the street into a wall, the shards of glass make the pavement shine under the lamp post.

"Ain't they down Pickets tonight?" I ask.

Pickets were a well-run diner they never had anything fancy just the usual cheap stuff but it was where all the guys we knew hung out.

"Yeah," he replies. "Wanna head down?"

I shrug my shoulders, to say we live in the city that never sleeps there's never much to do.

Picket's is always full of kids my age, everyone older usually hung out up Kaz's – the pool bar. You liked to think the set up was sweet enough. All our buddies were down here but truth is that I'd drop hanging out there any day for a chance to hang with the real hoods. Most of these kids you could tell were just playing pretend they were never gunna make it into this kinda world, the world where work was underground.

The Picket usually attracts the guys my age, there's never many girls that wanna hang out down here and the ones that do is 'cos it's less rough than going home. Only the real tough kids hang out at Kaz's, Ray heads up there sometimes but he's never once taken me, and that makes me feel real lousy sometimes. The guys from Kaz's weed out the guys from Pickets when you're tough enough then that's when you hang with the new crowd.

"Sup guys."

Mark's leaning against the railing eating a burger and Will's nowhere to be seen, but Mark's more of a loner anyway he likes been on his own and not having to talk to anyone.

Mark and Will are sorta the same like that, they enjoy their own company more than other people's and even when they're together they never say much to one another but that's about the only thing they do have in common. Mark's a small guy for turning thirteen there isn't no muscle on him and the more he eats the smaller he seems to get.

Will on the other hand is almost as big as Raymond he's real broad and tall for his age, the skinhead he likes to sport doesn't do a whole lot for him though, makes his head look too square. Ray says with the chin he's got he could be a pro boxer; maybe that's why a lot of people didn't mess with him.

"Who's here?" Ray asked.

Ray likes to know everything about where he is and whom he's with, that's just Ray's way. It makes him look smart, and tough – real cool.

Mark finished chewing his burger and swallows. "No one important," he says. "Few guys from school, seen a couple chicks inside."

"Jean ain't one of 'em is she?"

Jean's a year younger than me and if she weren't my cousin I'd have a good few things to say about her, sure as hell she was gonna be a real looker in a couple of years.

He shook his head. "Ain't seen her."

"'Bout time y'all got here," Will says. "Clyde was round here askin' 'bout you."

Raymond raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What for?"

"Dunno man just told me to tell ya' he's lookin' for you."

Clyde Riggs was a real hot shot he was seventeen nearly. His gang - the Crips - were some of the meanest guys around and you could only hope that if Riggs was looking for you it was in your favour.

Mark tilts his head and looks over Ray's shoulder. Sure enough Riggs is leaning outta his car window eyeing Ray up like a piece of meat. Ray takes another swig from his Pepsi before handing it over to me and makes his way slowly towards the blue ford.

"Whatcha' think that's about?" Mark asks.

"Nothin' good," Will replies.

I watch them exchange words, Raymond's leant into the car but I can just make out Clyde's. His face is all scrunched up and serious, his lips are moving a million words a minute and I know whatever he's saying wasn't something he wanted to be tellin' the whole damn world.

He looks over at me and glares from inside the car, I know better than to be looking when business is goin' down. Especially the kinda business Clyde gives out. I tear my gaze away from the car and back to the guys.

It's not long until Ray comes back over; he pulls my arm and tells the guys we're heading out. He doesn't say anything as we walk home he just keeps puffing on his cigarettes, one after the other – he's on his third.

"You gonna tell me what he wanted?" I ask, breaking the silence.

He takes a long drag like he's tryin' think real hard.

He shakes his head. "Can't kid."

"I ain't no kid," I snap.

I had a feelin' he wouldn't be able to tell me but it gets under my skin when he calls me that. You'd think he was talkin' to someone who didn't know shit, someone who wasn't on the inside like I am – most of the time anyway.

Ray pauses a second and smiles. "Course you're not, Dal," he says, ruffling my hair.

I bat his hand away. He's tryin' mock me but it ain't gunna work. I know I'm not a kid I've proven that loads of times to Ray and his pals – none of them take me seriously.

He doesn't say anything else and it bugs me something awful that he won't trust me with whatever he knows. We're buddies after all, more than that we're blood related family.

By the time we get back to my place it's late, no one's home – that's nothing new. Ray flicks the light switch but nothing happens. I rub my hands together; it's cold in the apartment.

"Bills ain't been paid," Ray states.

I roll my eyes. "Would've never known."

Raymond sparks up a match to give a dim light. The place wouldn't of been that dark if the damn windows hadn't been boarded up last week. It's a good job the summer months were still warm otherwise we woulda been freezing.

Ray leads the way to my bedroom; I know there's a couple of candles under the bed just for nights like this. He puts the match to one of the candles and then the other. I sit on my bed - it's damp and smells of musk.

Ray lays on the mattress on the floor. We'd found it a few months back, some ungrateful fucker was throwing it out. Ray stayed a lot here when the holidays rolled around and it weren't like either of us could afford a bed so the matters on the floor would have to do.

"Best tell your Ma in the mornin'."

I smirk. "She'll know when she tries to have a shower," I say.

I kick off my shoes and lie down on the bed.

Ray chuckles. "She'll scream the place down."

"Teach her to pay the damn bill," I yawn.

"Yeah," he replies, "Until next month."

He wasn't far from the truth. She'll go ballistic that's for sure.

I watch the candle light flicker and know she'll never learn. She doesn't care to learn and if I say anything it'll be the same old story of how much she's given up for me to take care of me and clothe and feed me. Hell if this is being taken care of I'd hate to be in some state house with the kids whose parents didn't give a rat's ass.

I didn't have it the worst but I damn sure never had it any good.

"You can trust me ya know Ray," I tell him.

He sighs. "Go to sleep huh pal?"

I roll onto my side, he'll not tell me anything when his mouths shut it's good and shut. A tight lip and an ear to the ground was the best thing to have in your neighbourhood a fancy degree or tough car wouldn't get you far around here.

I pull the blanket up to my chin and bring my knees up so I'm covered from the chill. Winters are worse around this place the heating rarely gets paid and I usually head over to Rays for a hot shower.

Everyone was the same; everyone had it tough we were all equally fucked up. But I always liked an even playing field.

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**Kimberley Jayne**


End file.
